


50 Shades of Warfstache

by VampyrePrince



Category: markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: 50 Shades of Grey Parody, Crack, F/M, Light BDSM, Markiplier - Freeform, Parody, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:23:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3517040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampyrePrince/pseuds/VampyrePrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Annie, and I'm just a nobody reporter from LA. At least, until I met Wilford Warfstache in all of his strangeness, and I discovered a side of him I never imagined existed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	50 Shades of Warfstache

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't ask what I was thinking. This is probably the worst idea on the planet but I couldn't stop laughing, just reading Wilford's lines in his silly voice killed me. Forgive me silliness. Nothing smutty or crazy, just a parody. Yes, the main girl is a name switch-a-roo to make it original. The story was also written in an attempt to mimic the silly style of the original, but I also added my own flair to make it mine. Wilford Warfstache of course belongs to Markiplier. If he has any issues with anyone using his character, I'd be happy to remove this fic with no issues :)

Hi there. My name's Annie, Annie Steel. I'm nothing special – just your average twenty-something girl with long, mousy brown hair and blue eyes. I'm not very tall and I laugh too loud at the most awkward of times, and I'm stuck in your average but boring career of journalism. Nothing too amazing there, at least, not until I met _him_.

It was cloudy that day when I stepped out of my apartment and onto the sidewalk. LA was still bustling regardless of the overcast sky and everyone seemed to be lost in their own business. Myself included as I hurried through the crowded sidewalks to a large office building in the distance. I fumbled through text messages and rushed phone calls as my boss hounded me – screaming in my ear about how ridiculously late I was; he did not like to wait. This new client of mine that I was to interview was not a patient man.

He was a prosperous businessman that had been involved in many different affairs, his more recent indulgence being that of my small little magazine. His interest would benefit us greatly, and although I was not the first choice to do the interview, I was lucky enough to be the second in command of the story lest something go wrong with the lead. As fate would have it: I indeed found myself filling her shoes.

This left me little time to prepare, but with only a few minutes left to make it up to the third floor of the office building, it seemed luck was on my side. I raced through the glass doors embellished with a giant 'W' on them and straight to the receptionist, who admitted me through with only a minute of my time to spare. The elevator ride seemed much too slow, people getting on in an orderly fashion on the second floor to slow down my progress. Who was this man I was to interview? Hopefully he would be kind and understanding, although most prestigious businessmen were a bit douchey. That didn't help my anxiety much.

As the elevator opened to the third floor I came close to colliding with a gentleman in a pink suit with a yellow undershirt and a... pink mustache? I gasped and stopped short, dropping my notebook and day planner. What an idiot! Just another irritating human being in my way to my goal, which wasn't too far away now. I glanced at my watch as I bent down to pick up my supplies, offhandedly apologizing for not watching where he was going. 

“You must be the reporter, Ms. Steel?”

I gasped and looked up in this stranger's direction, my heart jumping into my throat. Oh god. It was him! Here I had been in such a hurry that I'd all but possibly blown my first impression. Great. “Oh! I'm so sorry, Mr. Warfstache! I-I didn't realize...”

“No need to apologize, Ms. Steel,” he drawled. “You can make it up to me by conducting the interview in a timely fashion. I'm an important man and I have things to do.” He scowled before helping me to my feet, my materials once again in my arms. I swallowed hard as his strong grip left my arm and found myself blushing like an idiot. Despite the silly mustache he was quite handsome.

“Yes- I mean- I'm sorry- Yes, sir.” I held my head down in embarrassment as I followed behind him, and as we entered his large ornate office. It was quite sterile in its décor – the large windows covering the back wall revealing a large expanse of LA. All very businesslike, of course. 

“Please, do have a seat before you waste anymore of my time, my dear.”

“Of course, excuse me.” I nodded and sat in the comfortable arm chair provided, my interviewee taking a seat nearby on the other end of the long table. Butterfingers kept dropping my recorder and pens, but after a few seconds I managed to gather myself. Why was he so unnerving? I couldn't put my finger on it, but I just couldn't, for the life of me, get it together! “Are we ready to start, Mr. Warfstache?”

“I don't know if 'we' are ready, but I believe I'm running out of time.” He lifted an eyebrow and mused at my fussing about. I cleared my throat and attempted to take charge of the situation. I was the interviewer, damn it! It was my job to make the client uncomfortable with questions, not theirs!

“Right. Mr. Warfstache, what brought your attention to our small little establishment?”

“Wilford, please.” His strange accent made me clear my throat to stifle a giggle that threatened to rise. Underneath the silliness he was definitely... _something_.

“Wilford, what sparked your interest?” I knitted my brows together in confusion as he pointed to my recorder, and nearly smacked myself on the forehead. I had forgotten to turn it on!

“It seems, my dear, you were not prepared for the interview?”

“Just a bit of a last minute notice, actually. Anyway, the question, please?” 

I sighed as he checked his watch, his attention seeming to float to the phone sitting on the table before him. “Forgive me, Ms. Steel, but I believe I am late for another engagement.”

“But I've only just arrived! Why did you-?”

“Perhaps over dinner, later? What did you say your name was?”

“A-Annie. And the appointment was scheduled for-”

“You were much too late, my dear. I will, however, forgive you by allowing you to join me for dinner to continue.” He sat back and interlaced his fingers, watching me with amusement. He was toying with me and I knew it. No matter – I would get that interview if it was the last thing I did!

“The least you can do then, Wilford, would be to assist me in packing my things as I've wasted my time?” I smiled proudly inside, watching his expression turn from amusement to interest. I had challenged him, and clearly it was the right move. To intimidate. That was the way to handle these types.

“Well, well, well, Annie. It seems this dinner shall be interesting indeed.” He eyed me through his glasses carefully, my skin catching fire as his gaze ate me alive. I felt my breathing quicken and I hurried with my materials to distract myself. “Oh please, don't get nervous on my account.” He stood and brushed by my chair, the atmosphere turning thick and tense. He seemed to be awaiting me at the door, and I stood to join him as he followed me down the hall. 

As I reached the elevator once more he was still behind me, and I turned to face him. “Do we have other business I'm not aware of?”

“I am merely traveling the same way as you, Ms. Steel.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry.” I lost my cool as soon as it had come, and I found myself standing uncomfortably close to Wilford as the elevator crept to the second floor. It paused and dinged, but no one entered. I swallowed hard and waited for the doors to close once more, my heart quickening as I felt his eyes digging into me. What was it about this man that had me practically quaking in my heels?!

“You seem uneasy, my dear.” His lazy speech seemed too loud in the elevator as time seemed to stand still. 

“No, no not at all. I'm just not feeling well, that's all.”

“I see. Perhaps a good meal later will do you well.” 

The doors finally opened to the first floor and I rushed out, but not before being stopped by the very man who had somehow crawled into my head. He gave a lazy, charming smile before kissing my hand like a gentleman, then dropped it to fall at my side. “I look forward to our interview later, Annie.”

*

No. That dress was too long. This one too short. Too red. Not blue. Ugh!

My dinner with Wilford was approaching fast and the biggest of my worries was what freaking dress to wear! I blushed as I looked into the mirror one last time, my mini black dress once again clinging to my average figure. I had swept my messy brown hair into a clip behind my head and slipped into my black heels, finally just settling on the 'little black dress'. I had been thinking about him all afternoon and now he was influencing my clothing choices, which wasn't something that I should have been worried about. Revising questions for the interview, yes. Worrying about how much skin I should show, no.

Once again I found myself on the sidewalks of LA, but this time it was growing dark. The sun was setting in the sky that had finally appeared earlier that afternoon, and a Taxi was awaiting me on the curb. I leaned to the side to look down at the man in the driver's seat, confused for a moment as to how anyone could possibly know where I was off to. I then realized who I was dealing with. Mr. All Powerful.

The driver smiled as I climbed into the seat and offered him money, but he waved it away. “Not tonight, ma'am. Already covered by a kind gentleman.”

“You've got to be kidding me.” I sighed heavily as the car began to move, my hands gripping tightly to my large black bag that held my reporter's essentials. Now he was approaching stalker status, as I couldn't quite remember telling him my home address. He was a very prominent man, as I'd said before though, so it really should have been no surprise. With my name he could have figured out my place of birth, my parent's names, and what freaking high school I went to! Not to mention my address, which wasn't too terribly far from his office building. 

The Taxi stopped outside of a fairly decent restaurant, one too ritzy for my tastes anyway. It would be like him to show off of course. He had to. He was Wilford Warfstache after all. The name would get you anywhere most likely – it certainly brought me into the restaurant with flying colors and led back to a neatly dressed table in the far corner. He must've wanted as much privacy as possible. That was it. Definitely no ulterior motives. 

Ah shit.

I forced a smile onto my face as I seated myself opposite him at the table, his well-fitted pink suit still clinging to his figure. Gathering myself to the best of my ability, I made to pull together my recorder, notebook, and list of questions. I was stopped short of leaning over by Wilford, who gently touched my hand and ushered me to sit back upright. “But the interview...?”

“I believe we discussed dinner first, Annie.” An expression of cockiness sent my blood boiling, but not with anger. I complied and set my hands neatly on the table, shuffling them around awkwardly without a clue as to what to say or do. I hadn't been on a date – was this a date? - in at least a few years. 

“So, um, Mr. Warfstache-”

“Wilford, please.”

“... Alright Wiford, may I at least ask you a few questions anyway?”

“I believe you missed your chance earlier, Annie. My turn now.” 

I shifted uneasily and tried to divert my attention. I couldn't look at him. He made my skin crawl in all of the right ways, but I couldn't figure out why. Everything about him was so damn silly and exaggerated, but somehow... “What could you possibly want to ask me?”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

“One I hope you'll answer.”

“Why? Do you enjoy making me uneasy?”

He laughed humorlessly, his cocky demeanor returning as well as an air of way too much confidence. He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes lowered as they watched me curiously. He was rather entertaining himself, what with his odd mannerisms and ways of speaking. The question, however, hung in the air. Rather I couldn't get the words out or perhaps it was the nature of the question itself, I remained silent, searching for the right answer. “I'll take that as a yes,” he responded lazily.

“Don't put words in my mouth!” I became angry only for a moment before his gaze brought me back down. “But yes, yes you do make me uneasy, I suppose.”

“I do have that effect on women.” 

“Did you really just say that?”

“I believe I am asking the questions, Annie.”

“I didn't give you permission to call me Annie.”

My dinner came without my even ordering it along with a bottle of wine. Before me sat a plate of Chicken Parmesan in a very fancy arrangement along with a crystalline glass being filled with a rich red liquid. At least I could agree to drinking that, as I definitely needed the distraction to deal with this guy. It was a delicious wine anyway, although rather strong. Expensive no doubt. It was going to be a long night.

*

That's how it began with Wilford. I went from being late for an appointment with LA's biggest businessman to going on a date with him - never doing the interview might I add. He had sent me flowers at work after that, a bouquet of roses to be exact and to my embarrassment. He made no secret of who they had been from, and the office practically exploded with questions as to what was going on. All I knew was that this man that had consumed my mind and fantasies had barged into my life, without my permission, and was now becoming a very real distraction.

I went willingly with him for a few dates after that – one a lunch date that was rather pleasant save for the stares from others. Although I had grown used to his exaggerations others had not, and there were a few times when I'd wanted to crawl underneath the table cloth to hide. He was a god-damned clown in public sometimes and I just wanted to die. Then there was the other side of him, the cocky, charming side that was too full of himself to even care. 

He managed to convince me to come home with him after our third date. I hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly wasn't what I'd discovered. There was an entirely new side to Wilford yet to discover, and it would be my downfall as well as my new addiction.

*

Wilford led me into his LA apartment, one that was just as stately as his office. He offered for me to make myself comfortable while he disappeared into a back room down the hall, my heart hammering in anticipation as to what in the world I'd gotten myself into. When I'd first met him I didn't get the hint that he was even really interested in the idea of sex, but it seemed I was mistaken. I mean, what guy brings you to his home after a date expecting some small talk and a few hours cuddling by the fire? Not a one I've been with. Although a clown, Wilford was a man as well, and most likely no different.

My breath caught in my throat and my mouth curved into a humorous grin as he walked back into the room, his yellow shirt and suspenders looking positively silly. “What... is that what you're wearing under that pink jacket all the time?”

“It's a fashion statement I wouldn't expect you to understand, my dear.” Wilford frowned and crossed his muscly arms. 

“Sorry, I'm not making fun, I promise.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing any more, standing to meet him as he approached me. I yelped as he grabbed my waist, tugging me close and pressing his lips against mine. Alarms were going off in my mind, my body growing warm quickly as he gripped me tightly. Beneath that goofy exterior he was actually quite a good kisser – not something I would have expected. “Mmph!”

He pulled back at my surprised exclamation, grinning wickedly and backing away, his hand holding mine gently. “Follow me, Annie. I have a devilishly fun surprise in store.”

“Already? Shouldn't we have a drink first, or-” I was pulled forward as I followed him down the hall he had emerged from earlier. It was dimly lit, and there was a strange door at the end with a large pink 'W' in the woodwork. His bedroom?

As the door opened my jaw dropped.

It was indeed like a bedroom, but not a conventional one for sleeping. In the middle sat a rather uncomfortable looking bed with pink sheets, and lining the walls were all sorts of curious things, everything having one similar theme of that strange pink color. My shock dissipated slightly as I turned to look at him. “Why is everything pink?”

“If you hadn't noticed my dear, even my mustache is pink.”

“Kind of hard to miss.” I entered the room fully, not noticing Wilford as he slipped back to the door to close it and lock it. All around me were items encased in leather; some were frightening while others looked like they had been ordered from one of those adult stores online. I had never seen quite a collection before, and it definitely wasn't one I had suspected Wilford would be hiding behind a strange door in his apartment.

My curious wandering was interrupted as Wilford set his hands on my arms, spinning me around gently to face him. He had shrugged off his suspenders to hang at his sides, the sleeves on his yellow shirt rolled up to the elbows. “Ready to begin, my dear?”

“B-begin? Why so formal?”

“Because I'm going to require your consent before we go any further.”

*

“Uh, Wilford, what is this accomplishing, exactly?”

“Relax, Annie. The point is the experience.”

“Alright... Ah!” 

I groaned as the shackles were tightened around my wrists, the things pulling mercilessly at my skin. Thankfully they were lined in a soft material, so I wouldn't have to explain red marks to the girls at the office the next day. I watched as Wilford circled the bed, his eyes on me like a hawk. I felt terribly exposed even though I was still fully clothed save for my shoes, as I was spread out on the bed in a very submissive position. My arms and legs were stretched out, my cheeks burning from the blush that had arisen at the sight of him stopping near the foot of the bed. I realized that him seeing my underwear was the least of my worries, but it still made my head spin.

He seemed pleased and circled around to the head of the bed, adjusting the shackles once more before he headed over to the wall behind my head. I could only hear the rusting around near the wall, Wilford grabbing something else to use on me. It wasn't normally my cup of tea, the whole bondage thing, but something about doing these things with Wilford Warfstache gave it an entirely new feeling. He was such a silly guy, and even now he remained himself, although there was a new air about him. He sauntered instead of strutting, his expressions confident yet the same silliness as before. Something about this sort of play changed him.

“Ready for more, my dear?” I gasped as I heard a crack against the bed close to my head, turning to look up at my curious date. He was holding a pink leather whip in one hand, his other seductively tracing the length of it. A spark of fear caused a small adrenalin rush to course through me, and I pleaded with my eyes. 

“No, please. That's going a bit too far. And I mean... you? This isn't you!”

“Of all people, my dear, you should know not to judge a book by its cover.” He cracked the whip by my head once more and my fear turned into excitement. This confused me at first, as psychologically fear led to anxiety which led to the fight or flight sensation, but not this time. I actually found myself... _anticipating_ his next move. I felt my breathing quicken as he sat on the side of the bed, his body twisting to face me as the whip edged closer to my body. He stretched it out between his hands to tease me, showing me the length of the thing. 

I couldn't breathe. Heart pounding. A desperate groan wanting to escape. It edged closer and closer. The tip of the leather whip came close to my thigh, brushing against it. I closed my eyes in waiting for the pleasure that was about to course through me...

“Well my dear, I thank you for such a lovely evening!”

I blinked once. Twice. My body was still pounding with desire. Wilford had stood quickly and replaced the whip on the wall, unhooking me from the shackles soon after. He took my hand and I sat up, confused as hell. The kiss he gave me barely registered as my body struggled between wanting to pull him on top of me and wanting to punch him in the arm. When he pulled back to look at me, I knew I looked positively wrecked. He, however, looked quite collected. “Wilford? _What_?”

“Save the questions for later, my dear.” He helped me off the bed, my self-consciousness causing me to squeeze my legs together as I tried to will the raw want coursing through me away. Could he see? Was that his intention all along, to just work me up until I was a melted mess and then say goodbye?

“Wilford, what's going on?” I stopped, causing him to turn from heading to the door. He watched me carefully, confusion all over his face. 

“You were expecting more?”

“I- uh-” I was blushing like mad again.

“Well aren't you a naughty nurse?” 

“A naughty... _what_?”

“That's not what I had originally intended, but if you insist.”

I yelped as I was backed against a wall, some odd thing digging into my back as he pressed his lips against mine, my hands going into his hair. 

_Finally_.


End file.
